Tamaki's War
by xslightlyweirdx
Summary: What happens when the males of the host club are involved in a battle during World War 1?
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Ouran HSHC, that belongs to the brilliant Bisco Hatori... sadly... but some day it will be mine! MWAHAHAHAHA**

**(Tell me if you think he should die or not pweaaseee? I'll give you a fanfiction Honey cake!)**

I think the explosions may have deafened me. I'm exhausted and can hardly stand. My mind is an incoherent mess and I feel an urge to straighten it out... or at least attempt to... I manage to form one sentence,

"I'm going to die..." But what for? I could almost laugh at how preposterous this whole affair is. This whole war. It's painful, y'know? Being dragged away from your family whilst the stars still twinkle brightly in the ebony sky above you. Honestly, it's like someone plunges a dagger through your heart and doesn't hesitate to twist the knife before laughing maniacally that "it's for your country son", whilst he pats you on the shoulder. Well I'll tell you something. I will never be your son in any respect of the word you treacherous bastard. How dare you? I bet if our positions were switched your opinion of me would be exactly the same.

The explosions flare up around me; a blinding light emitted from each one, so bright it begins to take hold of my sight and keep it captive. It burns like the hate that surrounds everyone here. Each side has been turned against each other by their countries leaders. God only knows why. We didn't want this. We didn't want to enter this hell; we have been forced for three years to fight against people we don't even know. For three years we have been forced to live with the rats and illness brought on by the unsanitary conditions of the trenches. Each of us just doing what we can to survive and get home hopefully, if this war decides it ever wants to end.

I feel, rather than hear, everything rushing past me with the thrusts of the explosions. Nuts, bolts, you name it! They whizz past my hair sending my once blonde locks flying around my face. It's a wonder they never hit me; I'm just lucky like that I guess. It's then that I realize I've stopped. We aren't allowed to stop. We aren't allowed to turn back. Walk forward with a steady pace and you'll be just fine. That's what they've always told us. I sigh as the realization hits me like a bomb on a freshly built house. I no longer care. I allow my amethyst eyes to study the horror around me. I don't know why, I just feel the need, as though it will pay my respects somehow.

The dead bodies of the best friends I have ever made, and will ever make lay strewn carelessly through the mud. Scarlet blood seeping out of their fresh wounds; staining their hideous green cotton uniforms.

Those devil twins... they never failed – even with their slightly twisted sense of humour – to bring a smile to my face. It doesn't surprise me that they are together even in death; they were... are so close, no matter where they are. Their red locks, tinted orange in the slowly descending sun and faded with time and dirt, lie across their beautiful faces. Hikaru's stunning amber eyes face the sky, but Kaoru's are closed; his head rested on his elder brother's chest. It wouldn't shock me too much if Hikaru had made sure his brother was safe and comfortable before allowing himself respite in the red-brown muck that is now their deathbed. The two's Cheshire cat grins will not shine anymore as they mock me. And yet, I wouldn't have traded them for a set another two less evil twins. To say I'm going to miss them is an understatement. I force a smile and I kneel by Hikaru's side, and gently slide his eyes closed so that he may sleep in peace with his younger sibling.

A thin trail of the dark red liquid draws my gaze away from the twins. Honey and Mori both a year my senior, would you believe it, lie face down in the mud and rubble. Honey, the boy whose golden locks are splattered with crimson blood and thick brown sludge. The chocolate eyed young man said his father signed him up, he was old enough, and he was forced to leave. However a lot of people stood against it not able believe he had even passed 12. Honey kept a sweet face and said his goodbyes as the man he wanted to be. Not the man anyone else decided he had to be.

Mori as usual is nearby; his usually quiet demeanour now deathly silent as he lies about a metre away from his cousin. His dark piercing eyes now hidden by the sticky substance that covers every inch of me also. His wound is in his back; near his shoulder blade... it must have been a sniper I think subconsciously. Only someone with incredible aim or a lucky shot could do that without being seen. The bullet would have gone right through his left lung, maybe puncturing his heart? It must have been something powerful to take down this soldier. His constant need to protect Honey always kept him going; he never fell if there was a chance that Honey could fall as well. As his cousin, he believed his sole purpose in this war was to save him. To keep him safe, happy and alive.

I can't believe someone could do this in cold blood; it sickens me to think that we humans are capable of doing such animalistic things to each other. Mori's blood stains his itchy jacket, turning the dark green a dirty brown colour. However there is no-one left to care besides me. I pull off my own jacket and place it over the leaking blood. The sight horrifies me. I can't help but look between Honey and Mori and wonder who went down protecting who. In all honesty, I think Mori must have been shot before Honey. No-one would be able to stop him if the tiny blonde had been shot dead before him. The man who fired the gun, I highly doubt, would have been murdered quickly and cleanly. Slowly I kneel down in-between them; desperate to roll them over, to see Honey's face grinning back at me as he tells me it's just a bad dream and that he misses the cake and sweets from Japan. Mori stands behind him nodding along with his cousin; his face stoic, but his eyes hold more emotion that most contain in their whole bodies.

But neither move a muscle, I try to remind myself they aren't alive; I have to just let them be. But how can I when they look so helpless? I place my hands over each of their heads. Their hair automatically intertwines between my pale fingers. I don't want to let them go. I love them, all of them. I want to cry; I want to break down and let the enemy kill me. They're all gone, shouldn't I be as well? I hate this. I would have gladly traded what I have for them. They are worth so much more than my life. All the time we have been here together in this hellhole, they have made me laugh and smile. And although it's not quite like I used to, it is close enough for me; just being able to smile whilst we are within the devil's grasp together lifts my spirits so much more than a solid drink could have done. I close my eyes and try to envision the things they're seeing now. How they feel. Maybe they feel free? Maybe they feel relaxed? Maybe they feel happy? Behind closed lids I see a paradise beyond that of anything any normal human has seen before. The trees are green and luscious and the fruit that they bear looks delicious; the water pure and...

A splutter from behind me stirs me awake from my dreams. I spin my body around my head twisting uncomfortably as I try to see the coughing person. Kyoya lies behind me and slightly too my right. His ebony hair a sprawled out mess, and his glasses bent out of shape. One arm clutching his stomach whilst the other's clutching his neck whilst his body racks with yet another heaving cough.

I rise hurriedly and drag my exhausted body towards him through the thick layer of goo that covers the ground. Even before I draw too close I know he's not going to make it through this. Something large has hit his stomach and torn it open. He is coughing up blood now, and I can see from his expression that he is in pain. I fish around in his pocket for his little vial of morphine. 'At least it will help ease him into the other world' I think as I pull it out. With shaky hands I manage to help him sit up onto my knees before aiding him to pour it down his throat.

I've heard somewhere that distraction eases pain. I should talk to him. But I can't form coherent sentences with him like this; in pain, in my arms. It's so abnormal; he's usually so cool and collected. He shouldn't be able to die.

"Kyoya, what are you doing? You can't die. You're the one who is always calm remember! You are the one who always stuck around with us. You are my best friend! You can't leave me alone here. You can't. Please..." I trail off and say the last part almost silently. That's when the tears begin to fall. They fall into his hair, onto his face. And I see just how unclean his face really is. The water droplets that fill my eyes continue to fall as I try to wash his face slightly. Give him some semblance of dignity in death.

"Tam...aki," he manages to whisper between coughs, "Don't... You're wast..ing your... time. You have... t'...t'... to leave now." His body is shaking, and I know he is having even worse difficulty concentrating on anything but the agony I can only imagine he is going through. Softly I stroke his hair; I know I used to find it a soothing act from my mother when I was younger. He'll hate it though, I know he will. I'm showing him sympathy, he hates it. It sounds sick, but I almost want to laugh when he lets me do it. Not out of happiness, but genuine shock that he isn't retaliating badly to my affections.

"I'm not leaving you behind." I state; I couldn't bring myself to move away from him whilst he was in this state. My body feels so weak, so tired. The tears are flowing freely now. The tiny diamonds that sparkle in the sun land all over him. Yet I can't force myself to stop. I use a clean-ish part om my sleeve to wipe is stunning features before furiously drying my own face. Kyoya was always there for me when I needed him. When I was angry he was soothing to the fiery demon that showed. Although when I was sad and he was often the one that cheered me up, he was occasionally the one who put me there in the first place. Like those ginger demon twins, he always knew how to make me laugh, smile or cry. I'm not entirely sure how we grew to be so close, but fate works in mysterious ways I guess. But even as he lays here in my arms, his life slowly draining out of him, I want to be the one who holds him and comforts him when he needs it most.

I take in his handsome features for the last time. I want to remember every detail of him so that I can never forget. Usually so pristine, his black locks spray across my arms; they lay flat and lifeless against my muddy sleeve. His right glasses lens is shattered so I just remove them from his face. I want to see his eyes. Those eyes... a piercing silver only show pain and agony now, where once showed the laughter I loved to see. I would have loved to hear it also, but I doubt now is the right time to ask really.

He gasps and I know it's almost his time to leave this world. I can tell by heart he is close to blind without is glasses, and I'm sure that I wouldn't want my last sight to be blurred. Figuring that they will be better than nothing, I place his ruined glasses back on his face. He looks up at me, his face showing an emotion I have never seen from him. I think it's a mixture of gratitude and relief.

His chest rises and falls, but so slowly and so little that it's hard to believe he is even breathing at all. His death is meaningless. Their deaths are meaningless. I can't help if it's really for our country that we are dying or for the respect of the families that surround us. I know Kyoya's father was never incredibly accepting of him. He always told me he enjoyed the challenges that his father set him as the third son, that he wanted them to help prove that he was up to the task. I doubt he knew that this challenge would be his final and he would suffer the biggest sacrifice anyone could give; yet, despite all of this, he still wouldn't be given the family business. Something he wants more than anything.

His eyes reflect the pain and agony that I feel to, although I think mine is in a different respect, as he says

"Tamaki... you mustn't... you mustn't stay here." He chokes, and selfishly I don't move a muscle. He's using his dying words to try and save me, but I can't seem to withdraw from his side. No matter how many times I try to convince myself that I have too. It lifts my heart but brings it down again, and I hate it. "Please... before...before you leave, could you... shoot me?" That halts my every movement. For a moment nothing else exists but me and him. What is he thinking? I can't shoot him! Not even out of kindness. It's too much.

The way he said it, the way he sounded like he was almost begging; Kyoya isn't one to grovel at someone's feet, ever. I can only imagine the torment and torture this laceration has brought on; for him to want to die so desperately.

My vision is blurred by the hot tears that are threatening to fall from my violet eyes as I fiddle around with shaky hands for my pistol. My long fingers tremble uncontrollably as they try to undo the button that keeps my gun in its holster. For a moment, I don't think I'm able to open it; then it twists open and I start.

The cold metal hits my hot flesh and I shiver as I get a 'firm' grasp on the pistol butt. My head and heart pound as the realization of what I am about to do sinks in. I am about to shoot my best friend because he wants me to. And I feel sick to my stomach about it.

I lay Kyoya down on the red muck as gently as possible so that I can stand. The back of his charcoal coloured hair immediately absorbed by the red-brown slime. My head spins as I try to stand. My legs give out beneath me the first try, quivering too hard to carry my weight; which to be honest isn't all that much anymore, we haven't had a decent meal in the time we've been here.

I attempt to relax my body as I try once again to force myself to my feet. I am successful. My legs steady slightly, just enough to keep me upright as I tread a couple of steps back. My feet snag on a piece of rubble that is sticking out from its muddy bed. I almost fall down; my long legs are shaky enough as it is, let alone without being caught on things. Just managing to regain my balance, I decide to take a couple more paces back.

My pistol butt increases in warmth as my hand heats up unnaturally and I'm not sure why. I can't help but wonder what I am doing, or why Kyoya is making me do this. Can I even grant his wish? Or will I be able to move on with my life afterwards? I honestly don't believe I will ever forget this moment. I can feel my face paling as my left hand moves up to help me hold the gun. Out of habit and training, I place it underneath the butt for stability, though it doesn't help all that much. My right hand closes around the gun, and I know I am holding it much too tight as the metal digs into my flesh.

My forefinger reaches out and closes around the trigger. Sickeningly it's such a well-known feeling to hold this pistol, I desperately wish it wasn't; I wish it was just a foreign object like it was three years ago. The silver contraption glimmers darkly in the red sun; it's reflection almost beautiful as I raise it to aim.

Kyoya lies in the mud still spluttering quietly as he waits ridiculously patiently for his death. His hands folded over his stomach, clutching it tightly. He isn't facing me; he is facing the sky as he waits. I can tell that he is looking for something remotely beautiful to clutch onto as his last view. The sky; a bird maybe? Anything that will help him to escape this hell we're stuck him. The hot red liquid continues to seep out of his fresh final wound.

Then he turns to gaze at me; his stony orbs locking on mine. I'm not sure why, but he offers a small smile. One that doesn't quite reach his eyes and I can tell he is only doing it so I feel better. But I can't do it. My eyes cloud over with tears and I'm having difficulty seeing. I drop my gun to the ground; I could care less about what happens to that thing. I was about to kill my best friend; the best I've ever had with it.

My movements are robotic but with speed as I go back to his side and drop to my knees next to him. I pull his body back into my arms and begin to cry whilst hugging him close to my body.

"I couldn't... I couldn't do it Kyoya, I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..." I repeat it over and over again, whispering it into his ear because I don't think my voice could take it. I want to scream; to yell, to free him and myself. But I can't. I don't have the strength to kill him, I'm too weak. And I loathe myself for it. I feel a hand rest on my shoulder, and I look up startled. Kyoya's blood covered left hand sits on my shoulder, a firm grip even here. He clutches onto it with a steadier hand that I could never even hope to muster.

There are tears in his slate eyes as he whispers

"I know... I know Tamaki." He gasps in pain again before saying "I haven't got much time... left here. I want you to... to smile for me." Now that took me aback. He wanted me to smile? To smile in this situation? He must have seen the flabbergasted look that I could feel on my face because he proceeded to add "You... you always said that if you smiled... that it would get passed on... right? And everything... would be alright." I see where he's going with this now. I guess I have always said that, but I didn't think I'd ever be holding my dying friend in my arms between long forgotten fallen buildings and mud!

Taking a deep breath, I try and think back to the closest time that I was genuinely happy with the friends I've made here. The most recent was about three weeks ago I suppose. There was me, him, Honey and Mori sat in Kyoya and I's quarters. We were joking and laughing about something; probably something stupid; waiting for the twins to arrive so that we could receive word about our mission together. We had been told about our group, Squadron A, and that we were entering the field; but we had yet to be told about what it was we were to do.

That's when Hikaru and Kaoru came literally jumping down the stairs. Their bodies dripping with rain; they were sopping wet and they looked like drowned rats. The said simultaneously as usual,

"It's raining outside..." I don't think I had laughed as much during the whole war as I did in those few moments. They got me back minutes later of course by saying that they'd show me and dragging me out. They had coats on at least; I managed to catch a cold. But it made me smile because the rest of them were laughing. Mori even momentarily flashed a smile.

Just the thought of us all happy together brings a smile to my face even here. I open my eyes still smiling; Kyoya meets my gaze before giving me a genuine smile. He's probably too weak to form coherent words now. I don't know how long we sit there in the mud; me doing nothing but trying to retain my smile with him in my arms. I'm aware it could only have been minutes, but it feels closer to hours. The smile slowly drifts from his handsome face as his eyes drift slowly upward. His pink lips part as he sucks in one last breath, his chest heaving with the effort. As his breath leaves his body, his eyes close and his grip on my shoulder and around his stomach goes limp.

My heart sinks even further; the realization that he is gone, and I am now alone in this place. All of my friends are merely dark shadows that loom over me; and yet I can't help but feel somewhat relieved. They are safe now. All of them. The genuine smile that was on my face slowly drips off of my features and I feel my eyes die in a way I can't explain. It's as though I am frozen; taken over by guilt, relief and pain.

I sit there for a while, drinking in Kyoya's slowly cooling body, the toned muscles that pressure on my hands; the cooling pale skin. The way his hands look so relaxed in the mud; released from all the tension I've seen within him over the course of the last three years. I can't shake the feeling that he isn't dead; just asleep. God, how I want that to be true; although, I feel conflicted. I want them back; but I want to know that they are safe.

He is still bleeding insanely, and there is nothing I can do to staunch the flow really – short of removing my shirt. The lukewarm liquid seeps around and drips onto my uniform, my hands; staining them red. I'd call it a memory of him; but I'd rather remember it as a bad dream and wake up from this hellish nightmare. I pull him closer for a moment; grasping one last memoire before I leave.

I allow his body to drift away from mine; lying him down on the mucky ground that will now be his coffin. I try and lie him in a position that he will be comfortable in. His arms are across his chest and his legs are pointed straight. '_This is how he always sleeps' _I think;_ 'in a very military manner'_. But his chest doesn't rise and fall as he dreams this time.

His head is supported by some mud –cleverly fashioned, by me, into some form of pillow - that surrounds us.

I rise unsteadily to my feet; but I do it with a purpose.

I decide I have to keep moving, so I tread slowly forward. My steps aren't much but they have to mean something; for them.

I can feel the explosions erupt from beneath my feet; rumbling like thunder and doing their best to trip me up; to stop me. What else could they be doing? There is no-one else left here. No-one to care about the buildings that collapse into rubble. They crumble under the unsteadiness of the ground and the weight of the bombs that rain like snowflakes from the darkened sky above me. I don't care. I just force myself to keep moving forward and to never turn back; no matter how much I want for the chance.

The mud sticks to my once well-shined boots as I arrive at a corner; if it can still be called that. An explosion soars past me; ricocheting off of a nearby building. I gulp and stop dead still; voices swarm my hearing; speaking in a foreign language – it's them. It's the enemy.

Their voices echo ominously in my head, dipping into my ears and treading fear into my soul. They sound like they are spitting out the words as they walk towards me; almost as though they know I'm here. As though it's me they're here for. But they didn't see me did they? No. They couldn't have I decide.

'_Oh god; please guys, keep me safe here...'_ I think desperately as I try to conjure up some kind of plan. It's next to useless though; there isn't much I can do. I can hear their voices moving towards me; I can smell the smoke emitting from their cigarettes as they close the already small gap between us. I want to run, to be completely free as I disappear from their sights but it is a fruitless affair. I could never run that fast; I'm more of a long distance runner. I can go for long periods of time provided it is at a steady pace and not too fast. I'm decidedly useless now.

I throw myself up against the wall before letting my shoulders sag and I choose to slump uselessly down the rough brick. I listen carefully as their feet take steps towards where I am sat. They talk in loud arrogant voices that boom through my head like the bombs that fall around us. The cigarette smoke is unbearable; I hated the things from when all of us decided to try one down in the barracks. We had nothing better to do, and some idiot had dared Hikaru and Kaoru to give the disgusting habit a try. We each ended up coughing and spluttering for a good ten minutes afterwards.

The wall provides good cover as I begin to re-load my gun. Even though I know it's pointless it will still be there in my hands and I can still make a slight effort so my friends won't die in too much vain. My hands shake uncontrollably as I realize that they are still stained with Kyoya's scarlet blood. I do my best to wipe it off my trousers but all it does is get covered over with the wet mud.

I lean my head exhaustedly against the wall; breathing softly in and out trying to keep as quiet as possible. I'll do better if I have the element of surprise on my side at the very least.

I can hear my pounding heart thumping in my chest; and I can't help but be afraid that it is going to give away my position...Well, where I am hiding. I'm sat in the corner of the wall; the side is shielding me from seeing the people coming closer.

Then I feel someone lean on the wall. My heart stops and I hold my breath. I'm so paranoid I can almost feel their body heat seeping through the solid red brick.

It's only three men; I can tell by the distinct back and forth of their conversation. I don't understand a word they are saying although I know it's probably not something particularly good for me. I hear them erupt in a carefree laughter; their voices deep and bellowing as they chuckle away.

Then there is a subtle shift behind the wall; I hear some shuffling then the voices start again... only this time they are further away! They are further away from me! From the wall! My gaze heads skyward and I pray thanks to my friends and to God. To whomever may be watching me right now and has taken pity on my exhausted frame. My heart is pounding again and I want to throw up with relief.

I wretch and heave until my body has run out of fluids; then it happens. As I am thinking that I am finally free and safe to run –quickly - back to base; the explosion runs through my veins. Debris flies around my head and I don't feel it as a splattering of metal hits my leg. All I am certain of is that I am bleeding and heavily. I know that I can't stand anymore and I topple over to the ground.

* * *

><p>Thank you again to 16th of a twig for reviewing! It's much appreciated xP As I said I will probably be forced to use that idea! Hope the people who like it are still reading anyway, R&amp;R if you do! CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is appreciated too!<p> 


	2. Exam Time:

**Hey you guys, I am soooo sorry about this, but my story is going on hold for a bit :( I know I haven't been updating lately, and I know I should have done. However I have succumbed to the power of exam time and the stress that comes with it . GYAAAHHH it's horrible. **

**Anyway review pleeeasse? I will pay you in FF updates ;;) Plus, ideas help me! But no flaming please and thank you:)**


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